


Don't Tell Me Not to Fly

by Eldabe



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldabe/pseuds/Eldabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lian Harper came back to life in a world where heroes and villains never seem to stay dead. Now old enough to hold her own as a hero, Lian searches out the undisputed master of non-powered heroes in an age of superpowers. But Lian might not be the only one that has come back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Can You Teach Me How to Fly?

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on Dreamwidth.org as part of the first LadiesBigBang Challenge, and the masterpost can be found [here](http://eldabe.dreamwidth.org/4197.html).
> 
> [Draconic_voices](http://draconic-voices.dreamwidth.org/) was the most fantastic beta ever, and any remaining mistakes are my own.  
> With thanks to [Iceshade](http://iceshade.dreamwidth.org/) for helping me get back on track.
> 
> [Bliumchik](http://bliumchik.dreamwidth.org//) made a fantastic mix to go along with this fic, and it can be found [here](http://bliumchik.dreamwidth.org/345367.html).

Lian ran. She darted off the main street into an alleyway, avoiding the pools of light cast by street lamps.

Normally, she'd be running across rooftops, but she was only a few blocks from home and she didn't want to risk bumping into her dad. She ripped off her mask and stuffed it into her pocket without breaking stride. The bow and quiver were harder to hide so she held them close and prayed her dad wasn’t back early.

She slid past the blind spot in her building's security feed easily, then quickly ducked through the service entrance. As soon as she closed the door, the floor slid back and she headed down the revealed staircase.

Dad always wanted to call it the Arsenal-cave to tease Uncle Dick and Uncle Ollie simultaneously, but Aunt Dinah called it, " _The_ Basement", with appropriate eyebrow-raising and melodramatic intonations, so that's what stuck.

Lian whistled as she unstrung her bow and hung it up on the wall with her quiver. She carefully mixed her arrows back in with all the other ones. Dad didn't keep a perfect record, so he probably wouldn't even miss the ones she’d used tonight. A quick look around the room showed everything in place, and Lian gave herself a moment to appreciate another successful patrol night.

A quick glance at her watch showed that she still had twenty minutes, at least, to get upstairs before Dad got home, but she only had an hour before Cerdian was due. _Dammit._ Lian raced for the elevator.

That, _of course,_ was when Iris decided to show up.

“So, did you pick a dress yet?”

“Gyaaa!”

Lian threw her hands in the air and spun around. If she had been holding anything, it would already be flying at Iris’s head. Not that it would have hit her.

“Iris, jeez! What was that for?”

“I’ve been sent.” Iris said, following Lian into the elevator. “Jai wants you to know that we’re with you 100%. Even if you’re nuts.”

“And I’m sure those were his exact words.”

Lian stripped off her top as she walked from the elevator to her room. Iris screwed up her face in thought.

“His exact words were something like, ‘even though she’s completely gone overboard in postmortem internal inferiority complex.’ But honestly, it’s Jai, so who cares?”

Lian rolled her eyes as she stepped into the shower.

Forty-eight minutes later, Lian was dry, dressed, and almost ready. The evening dress would have been a perfect Little Black Dress _à la_ Breakfast at Tiffany's if it hadn't been a deep red; her dad's colors. She wanted to be clear where exactly her allegiance lay tonight. Plus, it looked good on her.

The rest of her accessories reflected her slightly overprotective upbringing. The matching shoes that were comfortable enough to run in. The catch on her necklace that was weak enough to break if tugged too hard, and which had, disguised among the various little decorative rubies and gold flowers, a little transmitter that would send a brief emergency signal to the JLA watchtower if it was broken. Most of her bracelets, watches and necklaces had the same mechanism; a result of many, many birthday presents from Aunt Dinah and various grown-up Titans.

Lian gathered up the rest of her gear – cell phone and various emergency paraphernalia - and shoved it in her handbag while Iris picked up everything from her dresser to examine it. Lian snatched lipstick out of her hand and applied it carefully.

“A little heavy on the make-up there,” Iris commented, making faces in the mirror behind Lian.

Lian ignored the comment, continuing to carefully apply her makeup to emphasize her mother’s Asian features. “I have to make sure no one recognizes me, Iris.”

“Ah, secret identity. Gotcha.” Iris tapped her nose and Lian regretted lending her that movie.

Lian hitched up her skirt and checked the belly band holster holding her loaded Glock. She let the skirt fall again and checked out her reflection critically, twirling and then sitting down.

“Can’t see it.” Iris reassured her. “But are you sure you want to bring a gun to meet-“

Then the elevator dinged.

"Lian?" Roy called out.

"Here!" she responded, and checked the time. She had four minutes to meet the car downstairs. She gave Iris a warning glance.

"Hey, any responses today?" Dad was asking about colleges. She'd amassed a small collection of response letters, carefully sorted in to three piles on her desk - the acceptances, the rejections, and the ones she hadn't cared enough to open after she got her first acceptance to a college she was willing to go to. She didn't really want to go to Harvard, even though she had the scores and Dad would love it. In terms of superheroing, Harvard was in the middle of nowhere; Boston was an absolute wasteland. In fact, most of the really expensive colleges were in equally useless locations.

Lian had the money to burn, with a long list of checks, bonds and savings accounts from her extended network of family and friends. So she’d spent a few of those Christmas presents from Uncle Dick on applying everywhere. Dad was not going to be happy to hear where she _did_ want to go and the huge flood of letters worked to well camouflage those few coveted responses.

"Yep, it's mixed up with the rest." She didn't tell him that this was the one she'd been waiting for. Hopefully, after tonight she'd be able to fish out the important acceptances from the growing pile and explain everything; but not yet.

“Hey, Uncle Roy!” Iris hollered as they started to walk down the hall.

"Hey Iris," he yelled back, going through the junk mail. Then he looked up. "What the... Where are you going tonight, etai yazi?" he asked, eying the heavy makeup suspiciously.

"Out with Cerdian," She kissed him on the cheek, grabbing a coat before he had a conniption. "I'll be back by one, and I have my cell, ok?"

“Don’t worry, Uncle Roy,” Iris assured him. “We’re just hanging out in midtown. Celebrating Lian’s upcoming freedom from the bonds of the mandated national education system!”

He looked like he still wanted to object, but the elevator doors slid open. "See you later, Daddy!" she called brightly as she hit the close button.

“Pick that up from Jai?” Lian asked.

“Sounds good, no?” Iris said cheekily.

Cerdian was waiting in the embassy Rolls outside, fixing his tie while the driver stalled. Lian smiled as she slid neatly into her seat.

“So….think I can tag along?”

“NO!” Lian and Cerdian said together. Lian tugged the door shut.

“You know I can dress in minutes…”

“And ruin it on the run back?” Lian said.

Iris sighed. “Fine.” She leaned in the window. “And we want to hear all the details, Cerdian! Don’t let Lian bully you into hiding anything!”

Lian rolled her eyes, and Cerdian smiled enigmatically.

“Good luck!” Iris added, and pulled out so Lian could roll up the window. Lian watched in the rear-view mirror as Iris waved them goodbye, then disappeared in a cloud of dust. Lian turned to Cerdian.

"Nice suit," she said, smiling at the obnoxious blue/green Atlantian insignia on his lapel.

Cerdian made a face. "I'm doing this for you," he reminded her reproachfully. "You might as well be nice."

"Good point," Lian conceded. She smoothed her skirt down, and then planted her hands in her lap, forcing herself to stay still.

Cerdian watched her for a moment. "Are you sure about this?"

"I've already told you. This is the best way to get a chance to talk to _him_. A public place, no emergencies or family or-"

Cerdian cut her off before she started babbling. "Yeah, fine, great. I meant, are you sure about this whole plan? Your Dad is going to flip out. Green Arrow is going to flip out."

Lian twisted sideways to glare at him. "Dad has refused to give me a real challenge for years, and it's not like I'm going to get a set of meta powers anytime soon. This is my best chance to train on the next level." Lian paused, trying to find the words. It got hard sometimes, having best friends that could fly, or break the sound barrier, or bench-press cars. She knew she was good, but good wasn't enough. She had to be _great_.

Cerdian just looked at her, a little nervously. Officially, she wasn't allowed to join the family business until she turned eighteen, and even then it was under the assumption that she was going to earn her bachelor’s after high school. Dad had made the deal with her when she had been thirteen and loudly complained that she wasn't allowed to do anything. Of course, that hadn't stopped her from teaming up with the Teen Titans and saving a small town on the Arizona border a few years ago. Or from doing a little unsanctioned patrolling. But most of that had been emergencies, so Dad hadn't been able to say much. And in two months he wouldn't be able to say anything at all.

She let out a frustrated huff. "It's important to me, Cerdian."

He blinked; then considered it, "Ok. If it's important to you, we'll make it work."

They sat in silence for the rest of the drive, Lian's grip on her handbag getting tighter and tighter while Cerdian looked idly out the window. The air in the car was artificially cool and moist, a weird combination, but it kept the driver comfortable until he could get back to the embassy; Arthur insisted that all staff be from somewhere in the ocean, or from Cerdia at least. Cerdian didn't have the one-hour time limit of his father (or the staff), but he kept a flask of salt water close by at all times for emergencies.

The car pulled up in front of the reception hall and Lian took a breath.

"You'll be fine," Cerdian assured her, before getting out. Lian waited for him to come around to her side, and let him help her out of the car. For the press, she was playing arm candy tonight, so she adopted her best vapid smile as they walked through the doors.

The event itself was made up mostly of politicians this early in the night. Ostensibly, it was a cultural festival at the Georgian embassy. In reality, it had somehow become one of the most important international business meet-and-greets of the year. Possibly, because Russia had decided to make a showing, which meant that China had to come, and that both of them had to bring a bunch of connections. Possibly because India had made it very clear that they would be bringing a large delegation of special guests. Either way, Wayne Enterprises had practically been sent a gilded invitation.

It also happened to be held on the same night a major prison transfer was going through from Gotham to the Metropolitan Correctional Center, about fifty blocks downtown from the embassy. The transfer was due to take place at about 3 in the morning, giving plenty of time for her to secure some connections, plan some deals and make a good show before the transfer happened. At least, Lian hoped that's how it would go.

Lian got a glass of something sparkling and mildly alcoholic to carry while she did her first circuit around the room. Cerdian grabbed something stronger, but _he_ could selectively cleanse his blood in under 10 minutes if he felt like it, so she wasn't going to say anything. Although he was really only sixteen, so _someone_ should probably stop him.

Not that Lian could really talk, two months before her eighteenth birthday.

After a couple of circuits around the room, Lian picked a corner with a good overall view of the main doors. Cerdian faced her, watching her back as they chatted. She kept an eye on the door.

"He's not due to show up for at least another half-hour." Cerdian commented casually, when they’d run out of inanities.

"Yeah, and?" Lian says. She knew that already, but they’d agreed that it was better to be early than late. Now, she was tense.

Cerdian handed his glass to a passing waiter. Lian had ditched hers a while ago.

"Come on," Cerdian said, and pulled her to the edge of the dance floor. Only a few couples were out there, and that woman from Keystone Steel was definitely making some sort of business deal with the German charge d'affaires while they waltzed to the wrong beat. Beside them, the Peruvian ambassador and his wife were gliding gracefully across the floor, unfazed by the fact that the Australian ambassador kept requesting faster songs, and her husband was having a hysterical time keeping up.

The last of the Australian ambassador’s requests came to an end and the musicians started to play a slower dance. Lian forced herself to calm down and play her part as they stepped out onto the dance floor. She lowered her eyes to half-mast, following Cerdian's lead while she watched the crowd through her eyelashes. She shifted closer to him so that she could look unobtrusively over his shoulder.

"So, which college are you thinking about now?" Cerdian muttered in her ear.

"Well, I got accepted by TCNJ, Berkley and Rutgers," she replied slowly.

"And?"

"And my GSU acceptance came in today."

Ceridan turned his head, eyes lit up, "Wow, that's great! Congratulations!."

Lian grinned, getting excited despite herself. "Yeah, but Dad might weigh in against a city campus."

"Well, Uncle Dick went there."

"And never graduated. Dad's not going to like that."

"Your dad isn't giving you that as an option, Lian."

"Huh, Dad doesn't exactly know I go on patrol these days eith-"

Cerdian tensed. Lian’s mouth snapped shut, her hand creeping toward her bag.

"He's here." Ceridan breathed.

Lian froze, for a moment forgetting to inhale. She met Cerdian's eyes, knowing her own were growing wide with panic. She felt like an idiot, all of a sudden. _Why did she bring a gun? Why did she wear heels? This was all wrong._

She had spent months trying to figure out what she was going to say. She had a detailed argument explaining how she needed the training in today's intense super environment as a third-generation non-powered hero. She wanted to explain how all the people she had grown up with weren't capable of giving her the necessary harsh regiment she needed to survive on the streets. She badly wanted to tell how she had basically been counting down the days since she was thirteen to her next birthday, because that was the day she was finally going to be allowed to save the world without her dad's restrictions.

Cerdian pulled her off the dance floor. Lian didn't take her eyes off the small crowd by the door, gathered around one of the most powerful men on the eastern seaboard.

Never mind. This was _it_.

The man around whom Lian had planned this whole crazy night walked into the room with the crowd, casually flirting with a woman three times Lian’s age as the group slowly dispersed. Lian sucked a breath in through her nose and out through her mouth and mentally told her adrenal glands to shut up.

She grabbed Cerdian's other hand, and pulled him close. "I'm not taking no for an answer," she swore fiercely.

He nodded a quick assent before she let go of his hand and started to stride determinedly across the floor toward the one man who had perfected the art of competing in a world of super-powers, Bruce Wayne.


	2. Chapter One

Lian tossed her orientation packet on her bed. Then she picked it up and shoved it onto her bookshelf, in between her math textbook and her Blu-Ray of The Rainbow Boy. She mentally dubbed the section, "Random College Papers," and flopped on her bed. Three days in Gotham City and nothing. Lian wondered again if she should call him. She imagined walking up the walk to Wayne Manor and demanding that Bruce train her immediately. Or maybe sneaking over to the GCPD headquarters and flicking on the signal. She could probably make demands in Morse code onto the night sky...

The door banged open. "Oh, good, you're back!" Jess greeted her, pulling someone else in the room. "Lian Harper, this is Bailey Fine. She's in 12-09 and she just got here."

Lian propped herself up on her elbows. Bailey had light brown hair and glasses, and had a good four inches on Jess.

"Bailey just got here, so Haroon promised to show her the sites." Jess continued, yanking open drawers and digging around.

"Haroon?" Lian asked, raising an eyebrow at Bailey, who just shrugged.

"Oh, Haroon is in 12-15 with Keith. Haroon says he knows the absolute best pizza place near Wayne Towers. which is going to be the first stop on the tour." Jess pulled out a top and squinted at it.

Lian scooted herself sideways on her bed. "Hey, Bailey, come on and sit. She might be a while."

Bailey laughed and sat down, kicking off her sandals to pull her feet onto the bed.

"So, where's your roomie?" Lian asked, as Jess pulled out a sleeveless tee and compared it to her jeans.

"Dunno. I just got here a few hours ago, and she wasn't in the room. She has a nice bedset, though."

"Good way to judge a roommate." Lian agreed in mock-seriousness. Jess's bedspread was a cacophony of bright orange and green on a pristine white backdrop. Jess had already confessed to begging her mom for it despite the inevitable staining. Lian's blanket was her old one, from home: mint green with pink appliqué flowers. It had been a coming-back-to-life present when she was nine from Uncle Connor. It was faded, and probably gave the wrong impression, all things considered, but a big red Arrow insignia would probably be a little too much.

"So you're an..." Bailey played with one of the pink flowers, "art major?" She snapped her fingers. “No, kindergarten teacher!" She laughed.

Lian grinned back. "Undeclared," she admitted. "But you might be able to get Jess's from hers."

"Drama!" Jess hollered from the closet, where she was digging around for her shoes.

"You're supposed to let her guess!" Lian yelled back.

"I got bored waiting." Jess said, crawling out of the closet.

God, she had to make sure Jess never met Iris. The two of them would probably bring down the entirety of western civilization in search of entertainment.

There was a knock on the door, and Jess crouched behind her bed. "One minute!"

"Hurry up!" a guy's voice called. "I was promised pizza!"

Jess pulled on the first shirt that came to her hand and grabbed her purse before darting around her bed and pulling the door open.

"Keith Manners, Haroon Nigam, this is Lian Harper and Bailey Fine." Jess pointed them out.

"Pizza, anyone?" Haroon offered.

They all crammed into the elevator, while Jess chattered about her new Gotham Transit Authority card, and Haroon and Lian rolled their eyes. They spent nearly the whole day hanging out in midtown, taking crazy pictures with the gargoyles in front of municipal buildings. You could climb on the ones in front of the Gotham City Library if you did it fast enough, and Lian texted her dad the picture of her giving the gargoyle bat-ears. He’d get it, and hopefully he’d laugh. Haroon had, although no one else did. Gotham kids took a lot of pride in their personal vigilante; which was probably a good idea, all things considered.

Two days later, Damian finally dropped off her first set of instructions. It was fairly obvious that he hadn’t learned his sneaking skills from Bruce, because if Jess had been a local girl, everyone’s cover would have been completely blown. Gotham City’s own boy scandal had been all over the papers when Bruce Wayne had mysteriously reappeared from a multi-year soul-searching cruise around the world with a new son – this one biological. Damian’s face had been plastered across a ton of newspapers. Lian had missed all of it, being dead; but she’d played a lot of catch up when she got back. Especially when he was the only other person in the “my mother is a super-villain, my father is a hero” club. Even Thomas didn’t belong to that particular club.

For the next two weeks, Lian spent more time on rooftops than she’d ever imagined she would: finding some clues, hiding others, and never once getting to meet Batman. It looked like Damian was going to be her handler, which he seemed to enjoy far less than she did. She didn’t mind poking holes in his ego; it was probably good for him, all things considered. He could be a bit of an ass, no, make that a _lot_ of an ass.

But he was good, and she wasn’t going to give up on that. It was still better than being trained by Robin, at least, who was two years younger than Lian, and totally new. It could be hard to get along with the newbies; people who didn’t grow up in the world, who didn’t know how to scan police bands for news of family members, or watch news reports and read between the lines to hear about family friends. Lian hated it when people found out about her story for the first time; she knew a dozen people personally who’d come back from the dead, but for the newbies it was a thrill, a spectacle, and Lian didn’t want to be a roadside stop.

Of course, standing on the top of Gotham Tower at two in the morning dressed all in black wasn’t helping her there.

“I’m just saying, some piping would be nice.” She said to Damian, _again_. “In red, for me, or even yellow, for the bat insignia. Black on black on black isn’t doing me any favors.”

“I though black was slimming,” Damian said. She could already tell that he was regretting engaging her, because his shoulder twitched when she continued.

“Sure, _fine_ , but no one will recognize me like this. I might as well be some sort of street thug, for all that the kevlar-nomex leotard does.”

“You’re wearing a bat-belt, _with_ the bat on it.”

“In black!”

“Should’ve brought your own gear, then. Or come up with your own name, at least.”

“Please. Like I wouldn’t have been issued a standard Bat-suit upon arrival. It’s not like I’m even allowed to use my own weapons.”

“We don’t. Use. Guns.”

Well, that conversation was over. It was true that Lian hadn’t picked a name yet; she kept meaning to, but they were all so awful. At this rate she was going to end up with “Jade Arrow”, and she’d come up with that when she was seven.

“Okay, today we’re going to be jumping off buildings without deploying the jumpline. The goal is to not die.”

“Thanks, Captain Helpful.” Lian muttered. Sometimes it felt like Damian was bored while teaching her. Sometimes he might be teasing. She wasn’t always sure. A lot of the time she was positive that he was repeating the lessons he’d received from Uncle Dick verbatim; which could be flattering. Or not, when you remember that he got those lessons when he was ten.

They spent most of the night like that: Lian jumping off buildings with no support, trying not to die. This was training, so she didn’t mind. Damian made her repeat everything at least fifteen times, sometimes more, sometimes night after night.

They ended up practicing pre-line deployment jumps for over a week; which made sense, because it was incredibly dangerous. Lian found out later that there were almost always two people watching her during the first four days. Of course, she found out when Cassandra Cain saved her from an ugly splatter on the YMCA roof by the docks; possibly the most embarrassing experience of her life thus far.

Three weeks into her training and she still hadn’t met Bruce. It rankled on her, because she _knew_ that she was getting better. She wasn’t even terrible to _start_ with, just under-experienced. So, when she finally gets the call to come to Gotham Manor on the last Friday of September, she was expecting sparring, or detective training, or _something_.

Instead, she had a five-course dinner with the whole family. Alfred serving, Bruce presiding, Tim, and Cassandra, and Barbara, and Helena, and a handful more, including Damain, of course. At the end of dinner, Bruce told her to take the weekend to remember the important things in life before she started training in earnest: Monday nights, ten o’clock, at the cave.

She went back to New York Saturday morning, and spent the whole day doing stupid stuff with her dad. That was the important stuff, and she wasn’t going to forget it. She spent Sunday with Cerdian and Iris, and took the NJTransit bus back to Gotham on Sunday night, in time to play a round of scrabble with her whole floor - extra points awarded for inappropriate words in foreign languages.

Monday night, 10PM, Lian was standing at the entrance to the cave. She received her own bike that night, and a standing invitation to Friday night dinners.


	3. Interlude: Five Times Jess Met Everyone

1.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Jessica glanced up from her reading for Drama 108. She and Lian had a silent, vicious rocks, paper, scissors battle before Jess, sighing, got up to unlock the door.

Behind it was the hottest guy Jess had ever seen in person. No, _seriously_. Thick, black hair, and piercing blue eyes, and _cheekbones_. Jess nearly fainted right there in front of him. Since when did guys like this just show up at your dorm room door?

Lian, of course, was cool as a cucumber. "What are you doing here?"

Jess was going to kill her. Her tone was somewhere between rude, and inconsiderate, and mean. Jess opened her mouth to apologize, but the boy just rolled his eyes.

"Special delivery," he said, almost sarcastically, and held up a manila envelope. Lian rolled out of bed, and he took a step into the room.

That was the moment that Jess noticed he was dressed in leather. Oh. My. _God_. The rest of their conversation was totally lost on her as she basically just stared and tried to keep the lower half of her jaw from coming off. She did manage some sort of mumbled response when he said it was nice to meet her. It was only after he’d left that she realized she didn't even catch his name.

"Who was that?" Jess demanded from Lian, who was dropping the envelope onto her desk.

Lian shrugged. "Just a family friend. No big deal."

Jess threw her pillow at Lian, because what could you do with a roommate that hopeless?

2.

Jess ducked into the cafe, heading straight for the far corner that Lian liked to hang out in.

"Lian," she yelled, waving her arms wildly to try and get the other girl's attention, "Do you think you can cover - oh hello."

There was a boy with Lian that Jess didn't recognize, but that was ok. He had dark curly hair, and he was pretty tanned. And _fit_. Why were all of Lian's friends so fit?

"Hey, Jess. This is, um..."

"Hello," the boy cut in smoothly. "My name is Cerdian." He shook her hand firmly.

"Cool," Jess decided. "Like, Cerdia, the country?"

"I was born near there."

Jess sat down. Lian looked a little nervous, but the guy seemed totally at ease.

“So, Cerdian, where do you go to college?”

He smiled. “I’m only sixteen. But I attend an international prep school in New York.”

“Is that where you met Lian?”

“In New York, yes. Years ago now.”

Lian was giving him dirty looks, but Cerdian told her about the time that Lian was looking for a particular knock-off Coach bag and they spent four hours going up and down Canal Street hunting it down. Lian seemed mortified by the story, but Jess was so envious.

Cerdian hadn’t seen a lot of Broadway shows, but he promised to take her if she ever stopped by. Jess mentally calculated the cost and time of a ticket to New York. Then, she tried to figure out how much her parents would kill her if she made a quick dash across state borders. While she was dreaming, she imagined Cerdian two years older in a tux for their Broadway date.

Lian seemed to be glaring daggers at him by the time he finished describing the cast of the new RENT revival. Apparently, they’d done a free performance in Times Square to protest a new demolition slated in a housing project in Brooklyn, and Cerdian had been there. Jess was almost melting with envy when his cell phone buzzed.

He glanced at his phone, then at Lian.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take that. I’ll see you later?”

“Duh.”

“It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise!”

He ducked out the back, and Jess turned on Lian, who spent the next twenty minutes ducking questions.

Turns out he was almost seventeen, though. Which was totally legal in New Jersey, at least.

 

3.

"Hi!"

Jess blinked. "Um, hi?"

"Is Lian here?"

The redhead had a huge gin on her face, and she was bouncing on her toes excitedly. Jess found herself smiling back, even though she had no idea who the other person was.

"I don't think so." Jess offered, hating to let her down. "I can tell her you stopped by?"

"That would be great!" she said. "Thank you!"

Then she skipped down the hall, whistling.

Lian really had the weirdest friends.

4.

When Jess tore into her room in the twenty minutes between Calc and Drama 280 to grab her textbook, she was expecting to see Lian, who didn’t have any classes before noon on Tuesdays. She _wasn’t_ expecting the naked boy flipping through a book on Lian’s bed. Fine, not _totally_ naked; he had a towel wrapped around his waist. But still, _mostly_ naked counts.

“Um, hello?”

“Hello,” he smiled, like he was completely delighted to meet her. Which he might be; delighted, that is, Jess was certainly a bit bowled over.

“Are you…maybe looking for Lian?”

“Oh, no. She’ll be back in a minute. She said she was going down the hall.”

Leaving a naked guy in the room... In all fairness to Lian, Jess normally didn’t stop in at this time of day. In all fairness to Jess, there hadn’t been a sock on the doorknob or anything.

“Oh. If I’m interrupting anything I can go…”

“Why?” he seemed really confused. “This is your room. Jess, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Bobby.” He held out his hand to shake, and Jess took it gingerly: who knew what had been going on before. He certainly seemed totally comfortable in nothing but a short purple towel and a copy of Selective English Readings for University Studies.

“Hi Bobby. Um. So. Um. What are you doing here?”

Bobby fidgeted with the book a little bit. “I sort of lost my clothes.” He confessed. “And I wasn’t sure what I should do in Gotham. At home it’s no big deal, and in New York I could probably get by without drawing too much attention, but I’m in Gotham, so I called Lian.”

He lost his clothes? “Oh. Okaaaay.”

Jess didn’t want to sit. She really had to grab her books and run, but he had these sculpted muscles that most guys don’t just put on display, and he was totally comfortable besides. Plus, he was a guest. Technically. She couldn’t just leave him there.

Naked.

Then the door banged open. “You are so freaking lucky, Bobby, I swear. If my RA didn’t believe the crap story about the construction on Fourth - oh, hey Jess.”

Jess waved her fingers; then, sort of flailed them at Bobby. Lian sighed.

“Sorry about this. Greece doesn’t have the same naked taboos as America, and Bobby gets confused. Right, Bobby?”

“There was construction on Fourth, though, and by Glen Avenue.”

“Thanks for that update.” Lian pushed the clothes at him. “Shirt, jeans and shoes. He drew the line at underwear, so you’re going to have to buy your own. Ciao.”

“Lian!” Jess dragged her over to the closet. “You can’t just kick some foreign exchange student out into the street. He needs help or something! Clearly he’s confused -“

Lian rolled her eyes. “He’s been in the States for years, Jess. He’s going for his masters in philosophy at Rutgers. He can figure out how to get downtown with his pants still on, if he tries hard enough.”

Jess turned around to apologize, only to find Bobby with the pants on already, making a face at the shirt. The jeans were too big, but he had somehow found rope to tie around his waist to hold them up.

“Sorry, Long. But the only long-sleeve shirt Darryl had was a button down. Appreciate the sixty bucks I had to use to bribe the stupid thing off his back.”

Bobby sighed and pulled on these weird gold bracelets. Some guys can pull off the man-jewelry, some guys can’t, and _some_ guys have weird Wonder Woman fetishes. But he pulled on the shirt and buttoned the wrists, so he was obviously figuring some stuff out, even if he somehow though that wandering naked around the GSU campus was a good idea during morning classes.

Speaking of which – Jess grabbed her book. “It was great to meet you, Bobby!” she told him, shooting a dirty glare at Lian. “If you need help or anything, feel free to drop by anytime!”

“Thank you,” he said seriously. He had great curls. Jess wished she had a card to hand him. Or something.

 

5.

“I think you met my sister.” The guy said, grabbing Jess’s arm.

“Really?” Jess asked weakly. It wasn’t a good time to play geography with some stranger; she really needed to get back to the dorm, or maybe to a bomb shelter. It wasn’t clear at this point which was safer.

“Yeah, redhead. Very energetic. Drops by to hang with Lian all the time.”

For the life of her, Jess couldn’t think of a single person in the world that would fit that description. At least not while she was watching a bit of the Roosevelt Tower hit the pavement forty feet away. It was a little much.

The guy tugged on her arm. “Breathe,” he advised, and Jess sucked in a deep breath.

“Listen, I need the key to your room.”

Jess automatically slapped her pocket to check for her keys, even as her eyes rolled around the scene. “I don’t think this is the right time.” Her voice didn’t shake too much.

“It’s important,” the guy urged. “We can’t find Lian.”

Jess knew that she shouldn’t hand keys to her keys to strangers and that she should probably go back to check for Lian herself and that her parents were going to pull her out of school the second the phone lines were back up. But she found her keys in her back pocket and the guy looked really worried.

“Yeah, ok.” She tore her eyes away from bits of debris still falling and pushed the keys at him.

He closed his right fist around them and looked relieved.

“Thanks. I’ll get them back to you.”

Jess held back strangled laughter, and he grabbed her arm again, meeting her eyes.

“Inhale through our nose and out through your mouth. And head East – there are less fires as you get toward the river. Grab a friend and try to stick with a group.”

Jess gaped at him, then winced at the loud CRASH behind her. The guy bit his lip.

“Jess! Come on!” Someone grabbed her other arm and tugged and Jess turned to Haroon. “You have to keep moving. Have you seen Lian?”

“This guy said that-” Jess turned back to the guy, who she realized never gave his name. But he was gone. Haroon tugged her arm again and Bailey grabbed her hand and they were running toward the water.

Jess only remembered him later, when she emptied her pockets out while searching for her keys.


	4. Chapter Two

“So, newbie.”

Lian wheeled around, hand going to her belt automatically. Good, she wasn’t reaching for a quiver anymore.

“Relax!” the woman behind her said with a laugh. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face, and she was wearing a full cowl. Lian wracked her brain for a name, and then a second woman landed on the roof next to the first.

“I’m Stephanie Brown.” the blonde said as she held out a hand to shake. Her outfit was a combination of deep purple – eggplant - and black, with no identifiable insignia. No, there it was, a bat on one of the pockets on her belt; subtle, but enough for quick identification if necessary.

“And this is Cass,” Stephanie said, jerking her thumb at the second woman, who was dressed entirely in black.

Lian wanted to ask them what they were doing in Gotham; everyone knew they tended to cover Chicago these days, both preferring to maintain a long-distance relationship with Bruce. In fact, if she recalled correctly, they were more affiliated with the Oracle Network now, as opposed to answering directly to Batman; which made sense if you considered Stephanie’s history with Tim Drake.

“And the voice in your ear is Oracle.”

“ _Hey._ ”

“But I think you’ve already met.”

Lian considered how you told someone that they were basically your own personal hero _Might come off as a little dorky._

“So,” Stephanie said, turning Lian around so they were facing the Goliath National Bank building. Cassandra Cain came to stand on Lian’s other side. “How do you feel about a little...corporate espionage?”

An hour later, Lian was suspended by two ropes so thin they were invisible when viewed from the side, wearing a breathing mask to avoid tripping the limited range CO2 filters in the vaults.

“Vault 182” Oracle’s computer-modulated voice coolly reminded her.

“Careful!” Stephanie cheerfully repeated.

“Slower” Cassandra cautioned.

Lian grinned though the plastic. 400 steady breaths left. Eighteen alarms keyed to all sorts of different changes in the vaults. Two laser barriers to get back out. At least one security dog on a randomized sweep of the building.

Didn’t mean training couldn’t be fun.

Afterward they let her ride in the helicopter, while Stephanie cheerfully reported a successful mission over her headset to the computer-modulated voice at the heart of the Oracle network’s information-gathering web.

Most of the people who worked with the network were women with Misfit being their most prominent field operative, but Oracle was generally agreed by the caped community to be a man. Lian knew better, though. There were a lot of good reasons for the misdirection, and Lian loved to listen to the different theories on Oracle's identity and their various justifications . They provided entertainment when Lian met new heroes at the Tower or JLA headquarters. Barbara had been at the funeral for Uncle Dick, and Lian had met her then; not that she’d known about her dual identity for a few years, not until Aunt Dinah had insisted that she be told.

These days Barbara wasn’t the only woman behind the voice of Oracle. Wendy was there too, and a few others, but when in Gotham City it was a good bet that Barbara Gordon was on the other end of the line.

A bet that was confirmed when Oracle signed off with a “See you Friday night!” to the whole group.

“You’re all staying?” Lian asked.

Cassandra shrugged.

“Sure, why not?” Stephanie said, almost too casually. “Tim’s on Mars or something with the JLA, right?”

Lian spread her hands in a “how would I know?” gesture. In her nearly three months in Gotham, she had seen Tim Drake a handful of times, mostly at dinners. He covered Batman’s international and intergalactic duties most days – the JLA, the occasional Titans call - or helped out his huge network of friends and connections. Bruce covered Gotham City, and they sort of shared the role of Batman. Sort of, because Tim deferred to Bruce all the time, and they never patrolled on the same nights when Tim was in town. While Uncle Ollie had been totally relaxed about sharing a title with Uncle Connor, Bruce and Tim had a set of iron-clad rules that even Damian admitted to not fully understanding.

Stephanie nodded back at Lian. “So, I'll be there. I always love Alfred’s dinners. You know he only started them after Bruce came back? I think they were to try and give Damian some sort of normalcy after Dick left. Because that house wasn’t-”

“It would be nice to see Alfred.” Cassandra interrupted softly.

Stephanie blinked, and then grinned. “Yep. Hey, new girl, wanna take the ‘copter for a spin?”

Lian spent the next two hours learning how to fly a helicopter, which Stephanie assured her would be an invaluable skill at some point in her life.

That night Lian called Aunt Dinah and babbled for a good thirty minutes about _Stephanie Brown_ and _Cassandra Cain_ (who hadn’t said a word to her last time). Aunt Dinah called her back later to give a thumbs-up from Oracle and Lian practically glowed for the rest of the week. It wasn’t like she was getting any praise – indirect or otherwise – from the Bat-crew.

Aunt Dinah was brilliant and amazing, and for all intents and purposes had been Lian’s mother for years. Lian loved her more than most things, and when she was having all sorts of trouble it was Aunt Dinah she called, because Dad was always too close to the conflict, and Aunt Donna was on Dad’s side. So was Aunt Dinah, but in a different way; Aunt Dinah would hide things from Dad if they were things he shouldn’t know. Aunt Donna never would. Which Lian could handle; you just had to know what to say to whom and make sure that you never contradicted yourself. Good practice for the field.

That Friday night dinner was unusually fun. It was almost shocking to see Damian - _Damian_ \- joking with Stephanie. Steph even managed to fling a spoonful of peas at him behind Bruce’s back. They all burst out laughing before he turned around. It was fantastic.


	5. Cerdian's Story

Moving on land was slow and painful and miserable. Everything only worked in two ways, and he couldn’t go up, and he couldn’t go down. And he felt the ground pulling his blood from his face and for the first time he was thirsty, thirsty, thirsty, all the time: endless, painful, thirst.

But he was a representative of his world, even if no one knew it just then, so he tried to stand straight and not lean on things, using them to hold himself up from the ground. The bottom. The down.

Father said it was fine to feel that way. It was normal and he could be normal and no one would care at all. But he was going to meet friends of Father’s and he’d never met them before. He’d only been back in the home-waters of Atlantis for a few tides, and most people didn’t even know he was alive. Father had come to get him and time moved differently everywhere, so while he thought he’d been away for nearly ten years, here, they thought it had been almost twelve. Or more. Cerdian wasn’t exactly sure how years worked here. Maybe the moon moved in a different pattern? Or maybe not. Tides seemed the same.

You will stay here, Father said, and Cerdian nodded. His name is Roy, and he has a daughter. She actually died, Father explained. Died and went on, unlike Cerdian who’d just disappeared from here but never actually left his body. His body just left the home-waters and went to a different dimension, where he had learned to use his powers properly. Learned to manipulate water, because that was all there was to play with and change. There had been no reason to come above the waters growing up, but now he was here, in a vehicle with wheels. Wheels only help on the ground, they were totally useless in the water. Turbines could be used sometimes. But not wheels.

Her name is Lian. Cerdian nodded. He didn’t remember being very, very young, with Lian and everyone else. But he had been, he knew. Very young, and with Lian, and above ground. That is why Father was not so very worried, because Cerdian had lungs for above ground. Lungs that would work for more than an hour. Hopefully, Cerdian would be able to breathe nothing but air, just for a few days. But he could sleep in water, he was promised. And he expected to do so. Because the air was dry, and uncomfortable, and totally wrong for sleeping.

She was nice, Lian. Played games and spoke a lot. He showed her how he could make water freeze or steam and she said that was cool, and could he make people hot or cold? People were mostly made out of water. Cerdian said he didn’t know. She helped with the sounds for above the ground, which were so very different than the sounds for below. No echoes or clicks (no clicks in English, Lian said. Some other languages. Perhaps Cerderian, the language close to his name) He learned politics some days. Politics were important now, with his name-country (a land country!) possibly leaving the Atlantean Kingdom. Which was very bad, Father had said.

Roy, Uncle Roy, was kind. And fun. But very sad. And he didn’t really understand everything, but Lian tried. Atlanteans were her project for her fifth grade report, so she helped him find food and they mixed the saline in the bathtub every night together. She was fun. And funny. She remembered being in the tower years ago, she remembered him as a little baby. But now their ages were closer, because she had really died and missed time, and Cerdian had left and sped time up. But they weren’t the same age, they decided. After some math, Lian still won. But not by a lot, so Cerdian got to go to school with her. His accent was better, and he was making friends, and no one knew that he spent his nights underwater, and he went with Lian to the pool every day so he didn’t have to feel the pull, pull, pull, all the time. He didn’t like chlorine, but it was worth it. And it was worth it to be with Lian, who loved to swim even if she couldn’t stay under very long. She taught him how to dive and he taught her how to speak some Atlantean, the little words that used air bubbles. She laughed and laughed, and then Cerdian had to go away.

When he came back he was older, and she was older, and he lived at the embassy, and she moved to Star City, and Central City, and Brooklyn. But they were friends. They still went swimming.

“Friend,” she would say underwater, with bubbles and hands, their eyes red from chlorine.

“I think I love you,” Cerdian would say back, and she would laugh because the bubbles sounded very similar to her water-filled ears, and she didn’t have any other way to understand communication under water.


	6. Chapter Three

Lian spent most of her time alternating between patrolling assigned areas of Gotham – with or without Damian – or taking lessons in the cave. She could handle herself on the street, so she found some of the lessons frustrating. Bruce once had her sit and meditate for six hours. It wasn’t like Lian couldn’t meditate, Connor Hawke was her uncle, but that wasn’t why she came to Gotham.

But after a strict lecture on the proper application of detective work and two weeks in the Bat-labs mixing chemical potions and squinting into microscopes, Lian got her own patrol. Bruce called up a map of Gotham City and outlined a section close to campus, and told her that it was her responsibility Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. She was expected to patrol from eleven to three, and do a sweep in a randomized pattern. Lian nodded seriously and downloaded all of the info on the area from the computers to her handheld.

After that, she was a bit obsessed. But just a bit. She researched the area during the day, playing tourist and taking pictures. She started constructing a 3-D model on her computer, putting in notes on different buildings after patrols (“Good view from the Lexcorp Building.” “Definitely some sort of drug lab on 42 27th Ave. Sneak in?”) and marking areas that were particularly big targets for muggers. Iris complained that it was all she ever spoke about, but Lian cherished her patrol like a first car, dirty and used and in desperate need of maintenance, but all hers.

When Bobby mentioned that his Andalusian Philosophy professor was giving a speech in Reykjavik, and that he had a long weekend coming up, Lian invited him along for Thursday night patrol. Technically, she probably should have asked Bruce. But it was her patrol, on her night, and sometimes it was nice to not have to fly solo. Not that she would ever tell Damian that. He was just itching for a chance to breathe down her neck.

It wasn’t Bobby’s first time in Gotham to visit Lian, but last time had been a bit of a rush because Lian had forbidden him to fly home without pants and he’d wanted to try and catch his Epistemology and Metaphysics class. So this time she figured they could make a proper night out of it, going for pizza before patrol and sleeping at one of Bruce’s nicer safe houses – also known as the extremely expensive penthouses scattered across the city – before Bobby went to New York to hang out with Aunt Donna. So far, everything was going great. They had managed to stop three muggers and one domestic disturbance, and Lian was bragging about the crime statistics on her patrol. Bobby was obviously amused, but Lian was on a roll.

“…and drug-related crime is down 8%, but I’m trying to keep an eye out for dealers, because they’re harder to track on crime statistics-“

“You’ve had the patrol for a little less than three weeks,” Bobby pointed out. “Are you sure the 8% isn’t within the typical range of fluctuation over a month?”

 _Scientists_. “Bruce tends to measure on a week-by-week scale, but I’ll be looking at overall numbers monthly, of course.”

Bobby nodded, and Lian crossed her arms. It felt odd to stand on a rooftop in Gotham with Bobby in full hero regalia. While she was in her Bat-suit, Bobby was in modified traditional Greek armor, sans helmet. Normally when he went out, he wore jeans and some sort of light chain mail - result of the jeans generation of Teen Titans, Lian had been told. Bruce hated the style. She was pretty sure Tim found it mildly amusing, but wouldn’t say so in front of Bruce, who occasionally grumbled at the increase in teens wearing jeans and some sort of insignia-top for a uniform. Totally impractical, Bruce claimed. So Bobby was even wearing sandals now, because Bruce insisted that if you wanted to operate in Gotham you had to be clearly identifiable as a non-civilian in a crisis. Lian could see his point, but when Bobby was literally flying to the rescue, the point was moot. Plus, not many people had a glowing rope hanging off their right hips.

“It seems quiet.” Bobby commented, looking out at the city. They were on the LexCorp building, because Lian liked the view. She varied her patrol patterns randomly every night, but she always took a breather on the building at some point. It was good to be high enough to not have to hear the sirens and chaos of bad nights, and it let her easily spot any-

“Smoke.” Lian said, pointing. Bobby lifted a few inches off the ground, and Lian prepared a jumpline. “It’s in my jurisdiction.”

They both headed for the source of the smoke, Bobby automatically keeping pace with her. Lian was slightly distracted with worry. This was her fourth fire in just about twenty days. Damian was floating a theory that it had something to do with arson, and they were tracking insurance payouts, but so far most of the fires hadn’t caused significant damage, and the only two fatalities were caused by smoke inhalation. It was nerve racking, though. Tuesday she had come back to the dorm stinking of smoke and sweat and spent a while in the shower scrubbing it off before crawling into bed.

They reached the building, but no fire alarms were going off. It wasn’t an apartment building like the last one. At the last one, a baby had died from smoke inhalation before Lian even got there. Lian resisted the urge to check Blackgate for Firefly and Firebug again. Iris had checked up on Heat Wave just yesterday.

“It doesn’t seem like a serious fire,” Bobby yelled down to her from the sky. “It just looks like a lot of smoke.”

Lian pulled the door open for the roof access and slipped on an oxygen mask. She had taken to bringing extras in the belt, just in case. She offered one to Bobby as he landed behind her. As they wandered down the stairs, Lian noticed that the heat wasn’t so bad, but the smoke was terrible. She waved her hands in front of her eyes to try and clear it, and tried to head toward where it seemed to be coming from.

Behind her Bobby was tense. She knew that he would much rather be leading, but it was her patrol and her Kevlar was just as good as his armor. Even if hers hadn’t been blessed by gods.

Lian rounded a corner and stopped short. The fire was completely contained in huge stone brazier in the center of the room, but it was spewing smoke around into the hallways. Tentatively, Lian stepped in the room, aware that the smoke was obstructing her view. Bobby walked in after her, and immediately pulled open the windows. Lian kept one arm hovering over her belt as she made her way to the table at the front of the room, which was set for an elaborate meal.

The smoke was clearing out of the room through the windows, although it probably made the building look even more damaged. Lian would have to intercept a call to the fire department if she waited too long, but the table was truly weird. There were two huge dishes in the center of the table, one contained a totally raw, dripping _something_ , and the other one had what looked like a huge, well-cooked roast.

Bobby came up next to her and looked at the meat, then at the brazier, then back again. He frowned and pulled off his mask.

“Something smells wrong.” He said, and approached the table,

“How can you smell anything through the smoke anyway?” Lian complained. The whole scene was just eerie.

In front of the dishes was a small note with one word in a delicate script: “Choose.”

“What, one makes me shrink and the other makes me grow? Is that it?”

“Carroll, correct?” Bobby asked in a distracted way.

“Yeah, Alice in Wonderland. You have to keep up with your Disney movies, Bobby.”

“I wouldn’t choose just yet.” Bobby said, then picked up knife and a fork and cutting a deep chunk out of the roast and peeling it away. Underneath was jumble of bones, bloody and broken. Lian suppressed the urge to hurl.

“Ergh, what the hell is that?”

Bobby neatly put down the utensils and picked up another set, moving to the second dish. It revealed a huge, cooked steak underneath the raw meat.

“Huh.” Bobby said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lian asked. Her skin was crawling and she wanted _out_. But Bobby liked to think things through.

“It’s an altar,” Bobby said, pointed to the brazier. “We were supposed to choose one dish to put on the altar.”

“Wait, seriously?” Lian was incredulous. Who was going to sacrifice a random slab of beef in the middle of Gotham City?

“Well, obviously not literally. I doubt you would have done it. But that’s what the sign says.”

Bobby picked up the dish of raw meat and steak, and dumped it on the grill at the top. The smoke billowing out grew heavier.

“What the hell, Bobby!”

“It’s the right choice.” Bobby said, and Lian realized that she should have been taking pictures this whole time. She activated the camera in her mask and started snapping away, her results blurry in the smoke.

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“The sacrifice. To Zeus. It’s the original myth of Prometheus, how he angered Zeus before the gift of fire.”

Lian froze, the camera snapping a few pictures of Bobby’s face automatically.

“Prometheus?”

Bobby got into recitation mode, and Lian wanted to bang her head against the wall. Training in an oral tradition, that had to kick in now?

“It’s a different version of the myth you know. Prometheus had already been trapped by Zeus on the rock, but he had not yet gifted fire to man. After he was rescued by Hercules, wily Prometheus sought to deceive the master of lightning through cunning and trickery. Prometheus placed before the Olympians a selection of dishes, one appearing as a succulent dish of shining fat and one appearing as the stomach of an ox. Zeus selected the meat, only to discover that it was hiding a collection of bones, while the stomachs held thick meat. To this day, Zeus is punished by only receiving sacrifices of bones from the mortals below.”

Bobby blinked, coming back down to Earth while Lian snapped the last few pictures of the room and sent them to the cave and Damian.

 _Get out of there_ Damian sent back _Someone else will handle the rest of your patrol._

“Like hell.” Lian muttered. She sent back. “ _I’ve got it covered. Clean up?_ ”

 _Fine. I take better prints. Switch patrols?_

Damian’s patrol was larger, and farther from campus. But she was planning to ditch class tomorrow anyway. _Roger._

“We’re out, Bobby. Come on, I’ll give you a tour uptown.”

Bobby looked back at the table, the fire and the meat. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get moving.”

Bobby climbed out of the window and reached back to grab Lian’s arms. “Sorry I ruined the scene. It was just a little too surreal not to try and fix the story, though.”

Lian shivered. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get to the skyscrapers and business buildings above 58th street. _Prometheus._

Bobby flew her uptown, and the rest of the night was pretty uneventful. Damian kept a tight lock on his patrols, and Lian wrote up a detailed report for him while Bobby watched rerun episodes of _Rome_ and made fun of the accents.

~*~*~

Friday afternoon, Lian sat in the Batcave alone, listening to the squeaking of the bats as a background to her fingers clacking across the keyboard.

There were three entries under ‘Prometheus,’ filed in the order of their first appearances. Lian ignored the second, longest, entry, and went to the oldest one, last edited by “Grayson, Richard”. For a moment, Lian felt a pang of loss in her gut. Uncle Dick would have been wonderful during something like this. Made some jokes and told her some stories about her dad, who hadn’t been much of a detective either, although he hadn’t done too badly. Lian knew that the cave would have been more upbeat if he had just been around to drop by occasionally. With Bruce in charge and Damian taking second-command and the new Robin deferring to both of them for everything, Lian's sense of humor didn’t have much to bounce off of.

She opened the file. It was pretty skimpy, all things told. Curt Calhoun wasn’t a terrible guy, but he had bad luck. It happened to a lot of people dealing with superheroes in their lives, and he had attacked Kord Industries back when the second Blue Beetle was still alive. He’d only had the name Prometheus for a short while before he fought the third incarnation of the Teen Titans, back when Uncle Dick was still leading them and they weren’t really all teens anymore. Lian tapped the screen. He had been involved in a fiasco with Roulette and the Hybrid team and the JSA had reported them all dead. He might be alive, but there had been no reported sightings in years. Lian flagged the file anyway, and quietly altered some of the police records so that they would be on the lookout for him. It couldn’t hurt.

Lian procrastinated for a bit, rereading the article and marking her name carefully so Bruce would know that she had accessed it. She considered calling her dad, or Aunt Donna, who had been part of the team when they fought this version of Prometheus. But when they'd encountered him, he had been a small-time thug caught up with a gang, in totally over his head.

Lian clicked on the last link, avoiding the middle name. Chad Graham was some punk kid who wanted to be Prometheus Jr. and managed to steal the tech for a few months. In that time, he somehow managed to fight off Uncle Ollie, and Damian’s mother, but what truly shocked Lian was that he had beaten Lady Shiva. That was a big deal, even though she couldn’t get any more details on their fight. He was sloppy, though, and he didn’t seem to meticulously plan out his battles the way his predecessor did. And, of course, Chad Graham had been found dead, a sign to anyone who dared steal technology from one of the few men to choose to take on the Justice League repeatedly instead of focusing on one or two of the other heroes. The really interesting part was that at no time did Chad try to establish himself as a unique individual; he simply slid into his so-called mentor's identity without calling any attention to it, while completely confusing his enemies. It was only after he was killed that all the pieces had been put together.

After Lian sent herself a copy of Chad’s file, she hurriedly clicked on the largest file before she could really start to think about it.

This file was huge, filled with as many images as possible from the internal JLA satellite cameras, and with a whole section on “Name: Unknown/Unconfirmed” because Prometheus - _The_ Prometheus – was still a mystery. There were a few theories for his motivations and an outline of his general strategy. He enjoyed defeating the Justice League, and he was good at it, but he wasn’t a constant threat, and no one knew what he was doing when he wasn’t kicking Justice League ass. Maybe this was him, back from the dead, messing with her head.

Intellectually, Lian knew that he hadn’t planned her death exactly. There was simply no way he could predict the exact fall of the buildings and her panicked flight into the streets.

On the other hand, this was the man who managed to predict the actions of the League accurately enough to take them all down on his first try. There was no way she was on his level. If he was the one orchestrating this, Lian was in way over her head, and it was time to pass the baton.

But...none of them seemed to be particularly into the mythology of the name. None of them seemed like the type who would play around like this, leaving hints and rumors. Lian drummed her finders on the keyboard, then closed the files. She wrote her patrol report, cross-linked it all back to the scattered fires and wrote up a note suggesting that it wasn’t an arsonist at all. She didn’t suggest Prometheus, though. She did link the sacrificial offering to Maxius Zeus, and also suggested that the fires could be the result of a totally normal, non-costumed arsonist.

She didn’t want to come off as obsessed. She did not have a complex about dying, and she didn’t want to seem like she did. Bruce had come back from the dead, or something like it, and he had been fine; so was she.


	7. Just Because You're Paranoid Doesn't Mean They're Not Out to Get You

_“It’s my life  
It’s nooow or neeeveeer  
I ain’t gonna li-”_

 _*Click*_

“Yeeeeah?”

“Jai?”

“Whaaat?”

“I think my friend’s roommate might be a super-villain.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Well, she keeps to herself all the time. We barely see her.”

“I _cannot believe you_ -ergh. Maybe she’s just a quiet person, Lian.”

“And she’s obsessed with Jane Austen.”

“So…?”

“So she already has a theme! And no one would ever suspect her because she’s so quiet!”

“Lian-“

“Listen, she calls our RA ‘Darcy.’”

“What’s his real name?”

“ _Darryl!_ ”

“Is he tall, dark and handsome?”

“…sort of?”

“Is he mysterious?”

“I guess. If you don’t have access to his entire medical and academic histories. But he’s not ridiculously rich!”

“When did you get so into Austen?”

“I’m telling you. She could be the Austen Slayer, stalking people through the night in old-school frocks and trampling them with carriages or something.”

“You watched _Pride and Prejudice_ , didn’t you.”

“The BBC version. Amanda swears by it.”

“Is Amanda the person we’re talking about?”

“She’s Bailey’s roommate. I only see her when she invites us to watch movies.”

“That’s social.”

“Obsessed, Jai! I’m telling you!”

“Lian, she’s a shy fan of Austen who probably had a crush on your RA. Go to bed.”

“If I die tonight and they find my body in a ditch wearing a high-waisted white dress and a bonnet, I’m blaming you.”

“Good to know. Call me after the sun rises to tell me how it goes.”

“ _Fine_ ”

“Good night, Lian.”

“’night.”

 _*Click*_


	8. Chapter Four

Bruce liked her theories, or, at least, he didn’t dislike them. He pondered her for a few minutes Monday night, and then sent her out to cover the city with Damian. Lian liked patrolling best, the constant motion keeping her busy between the brief moments of action. It was way better than detective work or stakeouts. Maybe she’d be an Oracle operative when she grew up – all of the fun stuff, the saving people and important work without the tedium before and after. Dad would probably have a fit, but Aunt Dinah would be proud.

Lian kept a sharp out eye on her patrol. Only one fire in the last ten days, but she was still too on edge to relax. Jess complained about it, so they went to see a chick flick with a bunch of girls on the floor. Halfway through, Iris showed up and made sarcastic comments under her breath before she got bored and bought everyone popcorn. From Brazil.

Bruce left to consult on a case, and left Tim in charge of Gotham. Lian wasn’t sure exactly where that put her on the hierarchy, so she arrived at the cave early on Wednesday and set about practicing her shooting.

She pulled a few handguns out of the armory, and one rifle for fun. She strung a longbow and a recurve bow and set them both down next to the guns. Lian was fully aware that if she wanted to keep training she wasn’t allowed to shoot a gun in the field for as long as she remained in Gotham. She also knew that if she planned to keep any semblance of her crackshot aim, she was going to have to practice, practice, practice. This wasn’t going to a part of her typical Bat-training; this was on her own time.

Lian took aim at the targets and shot. She worked her way first through each of her guns before moving on to her bows, concentrating on aiming for head, chest, and groin. Then, slightly more challenging: left arm, right hand, kneecaps. She set the targets in motion to give herself a harder challenge: high on the right shoulder; left calf. The goal was to cripple or disable, but not to kill unless absolutely necessary. She ran out of arrows, and popped another clip into one of the guns to start the whole exercise again.

They still hadn’t figured out who had planted the weird table. Maxius Zeus was a possibility, as he was out of prison, but he was last spotted in Vegas, so it was unlikely. Lian shoved the shatterproof goggles back up her nose and swung the gun around. She smacked the button to increase the speed the targets moved and concentrated on firing continuously.

 _Knee, elbow, elbow, shoulder, knee, hand, hand, kneekneeknee_

The gun clicked twice before she registered that she was out of bullets. Lian huffed, then jumped a foot in the air as she felt someone tap her shoulder.

She twisted around, changing her grip on the gun to bring it down on the head of—a slightly amused Tim Drake. She pulled off the earmuffs.

“Nice shots.” Tim observed wryly. “Having a bad week?”

Lian looked back at the targets. They were all frayed at the edges. She might not have aimed for lethal shots, but someone would have bled out at this point.

“Just practicing.” She answered, moving to clean the weapons before she put them away. Tim walked with her. Lian still wasn’t sure what their relationship was exactly, nearly five months into this arrangement. Bruce was officially her mentor, and she hadn’t had much contact with Tim. He was normally off with the current satellite League, representing the Bat-clan to the rest of the universe. Lian unstrung one of her bows and noticed that he was wearing jeans. She suppressed a giggle.

“So, I realized that we’ve never really worked together.” Tim paused. “For training,” he clarified.

This was Tim, Lian thought. The Tim that Uncle Dick used to refer to as his little brother.

“Detective work?” Lian asked, trying to keep the groan out of her voice. Obviously, Tim Drake would be the best person in the world to give her detective training. This was the man who had figured out Batman’s real identity as a kid. He could probably take her on a stakeout and teach her all sorts of methods of observation she hadn’t mastered yet. It was all important. It was just all a bit boring.

Tim blinked. “I was thinking of sparring, actually. But if you’d rather…”

Lian fought against the little voice in the back of head that was insisting that detective work would probably be pretty useful. “No, sparring is great. Just give me a minute.” She tucked the weapons away and went to change.

When she re-emerged, Tim had a headset on and was talking to Damian. She could tell, because his voice had taken on a tense air of authority. “-probably not for a few hours, so you can cover the sweep. Report back on anything important.”

Lian could hold her own while sparring with Damian, so she was pretty confidant. She knew how to fight, albeit mostly with weapons. But she had been trained to defend herself even before she had died, and afterward Dad had made sure she could protect herself in an emergency. And while Dad taught her how to fight with almost any weapon at hand, Aunt Dinah taught her jiu-jitsu, Uncle Connor taught her everything he had learned, and Uncle Dick used to teach her acrobatics and capoeira.

Tim had trained with Lady Shiva and fought alongside Cassandra Cain. He used to type his observations with one hand while holding his own in battle, he could totally teach Lian something.

When she got to the sparring mats, Tim was holding a bo stick in one hand and twisting it absently over his arms, across his back. Lian pulled another one from the wall and brought it forward, testing the weight.

Tim brought his bo around and they started to spar. Sparring with Tim was interesting. He wasn’t as light on her as her Dad or Uncle Ollie, but he wasn’t as tough as Damian, who always fought like he had something to prove. Tim was fast and experienced, and he kept her moving, but most of his blows were soft enough that she knew he wasn’t pushing hard.

He always went straight for her weak spots, which weren’t numerous or large, but his aim was nearly perfect after years of practice. Every time he swung his staff, Lian would have to adjust, fixing her stance, her grip and her position.

Tim brought his staff around suddenly and Lian twisted away, using her own bo to protect her exposed arm from his strike when the speakers on the comm system crackled to life.

“Drake? I believe we have a situation.”

Lian stopped, and Tim sprinted to the edge of the mat to pick up his earpiece. Before he could activate it, Damian continued.

“And if Harper is there, you should probably bring her along as well. This is on her patrol.”

~*~*~

The body was a man about Jai’s age, but with blond hair. He was dressed in full boy scout uniform, the sash with all of his pins and his hat lying, neatly arranged, next to his head. There was no visible cause of death, but Lian knew that they would check carefully for something obvious - obvious, at least, to the two Bats standing with her - before calling it in.

Tim- _Batman_ -was crouching over the scout’s hand, where a piece of meat had been carefully sewn to his palm.

“What is it?” Lian asked, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Damian.

“Human liver,” Batman responded, removing a small piece for DNA analysis.

Lian felt her stomach go cold. She started examining the merit badges, only paying slight attention to Damian and Tim.

“If it hasn’t been removed from this body, then there is possibly a second homicide.” Damian pointed out.

“We’ll run a check on police records,” Tim stated. Lian found the badge she was looking for on the scout’s lapel.

“But why leave a boy scout on the roof of the LexCorp building?” Damian said, frustrated.

“Eagle scout.” Lian corrected. She couldn’t take her eyes off the lapel pin, an eagle with wings spread, launching into flight.


	9. All the Things that Can Kill You Somehow

Fuck them. Fuck them all, and their sanctimonious ceremonies, and their tears, and their grief. How many of them were there, at the end? Gotham City falling down – again – and it was only five of us to save the day. Even Stephanie wasn’t there, off in fucking Chicago, and it was just the five of us.

Everyone wears black for these sorts of things, but _he_ never wore black when he was off-duty. Black was useful, it blended in, but _he_ wore bright, atrocious colors. Started a freaking legacy with the yellow cape and the green boots, and no Robin was going to live that down. So everyone all turned out in black, and black, and black, seemed like a joke; a truly terrible joke.

That’s why I refused to attend the funeral. It wasn’t politics. He just wouldn’t have liked it: all the black and the crying. He would say something stupid that could be funny if you didn’t think about it and someone would laugh because it was so stupid and then he would say…

I don’t know what he would say. That’s why he was the perfect mentor, because I always learned from him. Father was easy to predict, even though he barely knew what to do with me most days. Father had a mission, and a goal, and a driving pain. I carried the mantle of his mission in my rightful place as his son.

And for two years I carried the mission as Robin, the partner to Batman. I was never a Robin to Father, not properly, because he was unable to truly rely on me in the field when I was his designated sidekick. But under _his_ tutelage, I was able to craft my own identity. I was able to release myself from Father’s worries and control when it became obvious that the role of a partner was the only acceptable route for myself. And partner I was, in Gotham and Blüdhaven, and even for a few short months with the Titans in New York and San Francisco.

And now I was alone. Even though Father would never abandon me, even though Alfred would return in two hours to prepare a meal, and Stephanie would come back and be the only one left to talk to me. For nearly seven years I operated almost entirely with one person as my main mentor.

And now he was gone.

Fuck.

I watched the sun move across the books in the library. No one came here, not in a house with state-of-the-art digital archives of everything every written ever. Alfred still enjoys reading books, but he takes more time to rest at his age, and he was organizing an entire funeral. I was left undisturbed as the late afternoon approached.

“Didn’t see you on the grounds, batboy.”

Her voice was rough and low, but it was the Arrow girl. The only one who could claim an even more complicated and confused lineage than my own. I only ever saw her at Titan events or retreats or affairs. She didn’t even officially have a professional code designation yet, because of her father. Di- he had explained that it was still within a parent’s legal rights to restrict a child from dangerous activities like leaping from rooftops. I refrained from reminding him that most teenagers simply avoided the problem by not asking their parents. I also didn’t mention the simple truth that many teenaged heroes simply didn’t have parents to restrict their actions; certainly he hadn’t.

“I chose not to attend. A religious ceremony such as this has no meaning in our line of work.”

“I don’t think it was religious, really.” Harper came around the corner of the large wing chair, into my view of the window. “I think it was about family. Uncle Dick was never particularly religious anyway, but he _was_ a big fan of family.”

I flinched at her casual use of his name. To the last I had mockingly refused to use his chosen moniker, instead favoring his full name, or his family name. (Different family from mine. I used the same trick with Drake, but for a far different purpose.) I had begun to think of him casually in my head years ago, but had never made the switch audible. Too late now. Far too late, and he may never know.

“Sorry, Damian,” she said, and sat. I mentally restrained myself from lashing out. Together, we stared at the window.

“I didn’t want to go either.”

We still didn’t look at each other.

“But Dad says it’s important to respect the customs of other people. I think he would have liked it, everyone coming together just to tell funny stories about how he once won a battle with nothing more than two pipes and a really confusing pun.”

She was exaggerating, of course. It irritated me, an itch under my skin, because he was amazing, and happy, and competent enough. He didn’t need exaggeration or elaboration. The simple truths would work well enough.

I walked out of the room.

Two days later, I walked out of the manor.

I didn’t see any of them again for almost three months. I suppose I was better trained than I though, or perhaps Father simply didn’t look that hard. I spent two weeks in Paris – Drake had done some of his training in Paris. Then I went to my old home, where I was raised for most of my life. For two months, it was as if I had never left, and Grandfather began to show me some of the wonders of his making. He sent me back to the United States, though, with a mission. I traveled via Paris, appreciating the symmetry.

She found me, the archer girl, in a café along the Champs Élysées.

“You don’t want to do this.” She said quietly, her hands wrapped around the tiny, expensive cup of coffee.

“You cannot possibly know what I want.”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “Not this, Damian. Don’t do this. Don’t let this be his legacy.” She didn’t say his name this time, and now it infuriated me in a different way. I hadn’t heard him mentioned for months now, not even referenced.

She put down her cup and looked at me. “You’re not the only one caught between two legacies, Damian.” She leaned forward. “And you’re not the only one in mourning.”

I didn’t go back because of her. I simply disagreed with Grandfather’s politics, and I no longer wished to serve Mother. So I did travel back to the United States, to Gotham City, but first, I sabotaged Grandfather’s plans quietly.

Alfred served me tea with milk in the proper style. Father tried to find the words, but in the end chose to say nothing at all.


	10. Chapter Five

“Here.” Damian said. “You get your own case.”

Lian looked at the file. “It’s all property damage.” She said. “A bunch of trucks.”

“Ah, but who killed the trucks?” Damian said “Can you tell me that.”

Lian rolled her eyes, and Damian could see it because she wasn’t wearing lenses, but he didn’t say anything.

It was mostly construction trucks, at three different companies. No, not construction, deconstruction: a wrecking ball and a few trucks designed to haul debris from sites. Well, that was cool at least. Lian wondered if she could justify taking one of the trucks apart for fun, or just driving one. She knew Damian could probably learn to drive double-clutch in a few hours if he wanted to.

“Are you with me on this one?”

“Nope. It is all yours. Have fun with it.”

Lian made a face. Great, have fun with it. Well, fine, she would. She spent the next few nights at the companies’ sites, hacking files and storing them on her tablet. Then, she compared information: all of the trucks had been destroyed within a few days of being sent out to sites, but each company had dozens out on other sites. All of which were still fine, no plastique or acid on their wheels. Lian tucked the information away where it would be compared automatically by at least three different programs on her computer. She sent the information to the Oracle Network, but they sent it back with a note to “do your own work”. That was fair, they were only supposed to be called in for real emergencies, or _they_ would call _you_. But it would be nice to have SOME back-up. She also ran her patrol as normal, and noted that there seemed to be a fire every other night these days. It was a little disconcerting, but the cases didn’t seem to overlap yet.

Lian spent some time checking out sites between classes for two days. She spent the nights lurking around the lots of a few different demolition crews. Nothing promising, but she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for.

This was the weekend that Jai decided to visit, so Lian decided to throw all of her theories about her demolition case past him. They had a great time debunking them one after another. She was sticking with punk students joyriding on the outskirts of town. Jai liked claiming that it must have been aliens; aliens were good enough for anything in Jai’s eyes. They laughed about that one for a while. Monday morning, Lian saw Jai off on his flight out home out of Newark.

“Listen, Lian. It could be nothing but punk kids. But it could be something. Can you really afford to take the risk?”

The next day, a demolition worker died on his rig. The whole thing collapsed on the highway, and he was hit by a car while he tried to get free. All of a sudden, Lian had a murder on file. Now, she really did have to stop this guy. Bruce copied all her information, and Damian was assigned to work the case with her. Along with Charlie, who popped in and out when she felt like it, but at least always answered her phone on the second ring. So now, Lian was leading a team, and she was _not_ freaking out, not at all, _of course not_.

She dealt with it. She explored avenues, and called in Oracle Network people, and she was dealing with it well, everyone said. She thought so too, she was giving her all to the team effort.

But they weren’t finding anything. They now had a full rotation of surveillance on the three major demolition/deconstruction companies in the city. Lian spent all of Friday and Saturday nights sitting on rooftops around the Dermin Demolition Services lot. Then, on Sunday night, at around two in the morning, the whole lot went up in flames.

Maybe there was a connection after all.

~*~*~

“GOOD MORNING BAAAAAALTIMORE!!”

Lian groaned at Jess’s shrill tone. No way was it noon yet, and she didn’t have her first class until 1:30. She wanted her sleep after last night.

“C’mon Lian, you promised on this one.”

Lian opened one eye blearily at Jess, who was wearing a frustrated expression. Of course, Jess thought she was out partying last night, which would explain her lack of sympathy.

“Whaaa time?” Lian mumbled.

“A quarter to twelve, so you’d better hurry. The protest starts at noon.”

 _Protest?_ Lian hauled herself upright.

“It’s the first event this semester held by the Architecture department that isn’t exclusively for the Architecture students. It’s ridiculous, Lian. Everyone’s going.”

Jess thrust a neon-orange flyer at Lian, who squinted at the large “G.S.U-NITE!” banner across the top.

“It’s by Bute Hall in twenty minutes. Come on!”

Lian dragged on jeans and an old Great Frog shirt, and grabbed her keys before Jess dragged her down the hall.

The protest was a mass of people, mostly chatting with each other. Jess was right – it was a huge social event. There were a group of students in the front with brightly-colored t-shirts emblazoned with “ART-ITECHTS: SINCE 1927” They were holding signs up of various buildings around and chanting something she couldn’t make out.

Jess pulled her closer to the center, and one of the architecture students rushed up to them.

“Save the Garnet Theater!” he yelled, pushing a flying into Lian’s hands. He waved another one at Jess, who grabbed it happily.

“Why?” Lian asked, glancing at the flyer.

“The Garnet Theater is one of the architectural landmarks of Gotham City.” The guy explained. He was wearing a nametag, reading ‘Joey’. “It was built when the talkies started, but in the style of a silent theater, large and majestic.”

Lian itched to raise an eyebrow and exchange looks with Jess. But Jess was enraptured, clutching her flyer.

“Gotham City has been completely unappreciative of the architectural treasures dotting this city!” Joey ranted. “In this year alone, five historic sites have been slated for demolition by corporations solely concerned with profit. The value of true architectural art has been lost-” He pushed another flyer at them, this one with a list of sites in bold letters.

Lian tuned him out, reading the flyer absentmindedly.

“Wait a second.” She interrupted. “Three of these sites have already been slated for demolition. Why are they still listed as hosting protests?”

“Gotham City students and concerned citizens have been living on the sites day and night, with a six-hour rotation.” Joey told her, miffed at being cut off. “Together we hope to show how much these sites mean to Gotham and the world.”

Lian tuned him out again, a sinking feeling in her chest. She was totally awake now, wired for action. She whipped out her cell phone and accessed the encrypted case files on her hard drive. _Yes!_ Each of the first three demolition crews had been working at one of the sites on the list.

The last company, the one whose lot had gone up in flames, hadn’t been. But it was the first even vaguely solid lead that she had, and the Garnet Theater was scheduled to come down in three days, which means that the Acme Building and Demolishing Corp. was probably going to get a nighttime visitor in the next 48 hours.

Lian gave herself a moment to feel like an utter idiot. Then, she tapped Jess on the shoulder, interrupting another one of Joey’s rants.

“Jess, I am so sorry, but I have to run. Tell me how it goes?”

“But Lian, this is the first architecture event of the year! Joey says they'll have chips and discussion in the architecture dorm lobby!”

Lian gave her a palms-up helpless gesture, then ran for it. If her theory held, one of the people in the crowd had been spending his or her nights skulking around the sites.

Lian had only an hour before she had to go to class. She got back to her dorm room and opened up her laptop, making a list of prime suspects (mainly the executive board of the GSU Student Architects Society, who had arranged the event) and started to research them. Unfortunately, every single one of them had an alibi – arranging this little campus protest in the lobby of the architects dorm, which had a ridiculous amount of security cameras for a student dorm lobby. Guess the architecture department donations had to go somewhere.

With a growl of frustration, Lian saved her theories and information and sent them off to the Batcave and Oracle Network. She encrypted a file and sent it Jai with the subject like “Punk Kids Y/Y!??”Then, she really did have to run to class. See, she hadn’t lied to Jess, _precisely_.

~*~*~

When she finally got back around nine, Oracle had sent her the CCTV stream from the Acme BDC, so they could all keep an eye on it for now. Damian promised to start looking at the other students in the architecture club. And she had a response from Jai.

“Good call, L. But do you really think that a bunch of college students have that kind of money to burn? The plastique alone would probably max a credit card. Check for the rich kids, or better yet, try to find some sort of rich backer. –J”

Lian stared at the screen for a moment, getting the worst feeling of déjà-vu as she mentally smacked herself for being an idiot. Clearly detective work was not her strong suit. _Dammit_

She pulled out the flyers again. Two speakers were listed for the rally, which was over by now. One was a GSU professor, who probably had some money, but not enough. The other was a citizen representative, Arthur Belmont. A quick Google search confirmed that he was filthy rich, and his involvement in the protest proved he was committed to the cause. He must have been at least 50, though. Not typically a suspect for these sorts of things, but he might be backing sending out thugs, or other students in SAS. She sent a request to Oracle to try and hack his records to see if he pulled out a lot of cash recently. Lian considered staking out his house, but dismissed it for now as too useless. He could have handed off the cash today. Better to watch the sites at risk, for now.

Lian glanced at the clock - a little past ten. She called Damian to keep him posted on the situation as she made a run for her bike, stashed at the nearest Bat-cubby hole (or _Auxiliary Cave_ , depending on who she was talking to).

Damian met her at the site. “Your theory doesn’t explain the fire.” He pointed out.

“But it’s a good theory anyway,” Lian retorted, keeping her eyes trained on the building. “Maybe the fire was part of that arsonist theory you were running a few weeks ago.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s your case. Robin is covering downtown tonight, and Oracle is keeping tabs on her.”

Unspoken went the assumption that Batman was keeping tabs on everything.

Lian was prepared to settle in for a long night, so when an older gentleman in a three-piece suit strode casually onto the lot, she almost jumped out of her skin.

“That’s Arthur Belmont!” she hissed at Damian, even though they were four blocks away.

“Yes, well-“ Lian jumped off the roof before Damian could finish his sentence, swinging down to the lot.

Lian stopped in front of him. “Sir, I’m afraid you’re under arrest for breaking and entering, and wanton destruction of property.”

Belmont raised an eyebrow. “Are you allowed to arrest citizens, young lady?”

Lian floundered. “Citizen’s arrest,” she decided.

“I’ve called the police.” Damian said. “They’ll be here in a moment.”

Belmont sighed. “Well, I suppose I’ll go quietly. I shall have to reveal my intentions now.”

Lian gave Damian a look. He shrugged in a _you-get-all-kinds-in-Gotham_ kind of way.

Belmont calmly explained his plans as they waited for the police. So much destruction in only a few weeks was simply not to be borne. When the GSU students contacted him for support as a local architectural expert, he simply knew that something had to be done.

The whole case felt disappointingly anti-climactic. Arthur Belmont hadn’t really meant to hurt anyone – although it was eerie how little he seemed to care that he had. He also insisted that he knew nothing about the fire, or any of the other fires that had been set during the week. He seemed slightly unhinged in a mostly harmless way, but Lian would prefer to see that he was charged and watched by the authorities at this point. Damian leaving Arthur to the police when they came.

“What about the fire?” Damian insisted as they watched Arthur calmly get into the back of the cop car.

“Insurance bid?” Lian said.

Damian sighed. “I’ll look into it. You need more training on detective work.”

Lian stuck her tongue out at his back while he swung away.

\--

“You were right.” She said to Jai the next evening, while doing some of her economics homework on her computer.

“I’m always right,” Jai joked on the other end of the line.

“Well, at lease no one else got hurt.” Lian said, eying her problem suspiciously. No ice-cream truck should have that much money to burn.

“Listen, Lian, it was a success overall. You saved some trucks from utter demise and put another Gotham crazy away.”

“Yeah, but-“ Lian tried to explain that she wanted her first arrest to involve the rush of a real case. She didn’t want some guy who was basically mildly crazy. She wanted to have to chase him down, maybe save a life, or get in a car chase while she pursued him. That sort of thing. Then she remembered the alter, and the eagle scout... maybe it was better to start slow, but that didn't stop her from feeling disappointed.

Then Iris was standing in front of Lian, hands on her hips. “Mom said to let Jai off the phone for dinner, or you’re not invited back for President’s Day weekend. And we’ll barbecue. Without you.”

Lian held her hands up in surrender, and Iris whisked away.

“Guess that’s a goodbye, then.” Jai said.

“Guess so. Tell everyone I say hi.”

“Will do.” He hesitated, and Lian could hear Iris hollering in the background. “Listen, Lian. Boring doesn’t have to be bad. Your dad will love it.”

Lian laughed. “Good point.”

After Jai hung up, Lian brooded at the phone for a bit. Then she called her dad, because he had a point. Dad would love hearing about her utterly boring experiences as a teenage superhero.


	11. Safety and Freedom

Lian turned 11 yesterday, according to the candles on her birthday cake. She wasn’t sure if Dad had it totally right – she had lost a little less than four years, and now they should probably sit down and choose a new birthday around a new set of 365 days. But she liked her birthday, it was familiar and on her birth certificate. So they kept it, and pretended that it was totally accurate.

Lian stuck out a lot on the reservation, and it wasn’t just for her wrong-birthday. Her hair and eyes were from her mom, and her pale skin was from her dad, and she didn’t match all of her friends at school, who were all legally recognized members of the Navajo nation. Daddy said looks didn’t matter, but it was hard when you were all alone.

That wasn’t the only way that Lian was different, though. Lian was different because she used to be dead and now she wasn’t. Daddy didn’t like to talk about it, and everyone at school pretended it never happened. Most people didn’t talk about it. There was a whole group of devout Navajo that pretended Lian didn’t exist. Mike told her so at school last year, and Lian paid attention now; some elders just didn’t look at her ever.

It was very bad to bring someone back from the dead, Mike had explained. And now lots of people didn’t like Lian because of it. It wasn’t Lian’s fault, but according to the books she studied sometimes during recess, the Dine worked very hard to keep dead people dead, and Lian had come back.

But it wasn’t her fault, Lian knew. It was Daddy’s fault, and that’s why a lot of people treated him differently. Lian asked him why they stayed in Arizona if people didn’t like him here. Uncle Ollie had invited them to Seattle, and Uncle Connor invited them to Star City and Aunt Donna offered to take Lian anywhere at all. But Daddy said no, it was safe at the reservation. Then he offered to take her out for ice cream, and Lian knew the subject was closed.

Not everyone treated them differently on the reservation. Lian had a proper birthday party, with cake and friends. They played some silly games and Billy’s mom came over to help because Dad was really bad at this sort of stuff. Billy’s mom didn’t let them play any shooting games, because Lian would win too easily.

But today there was no school or parties, so when Lian watched the car coming up the drive, kicking up a cloud of dust, she yelled back into the house.

“Daa-aad! Someone’s coming!”

And then Dad was right next to her, one arm on her shoulder and the other one holding a handgun. Daddy always wore long sleeves these days to try and hide his metal arm, but it was way too hot in Arizona for gloves. Lian didn’t mind the glint of the sun, but Dad did.

“They’re early.” Dad said, shading his eyes with the barrel of the gun. Aunt Dinah didn’t like that there were so many guns in the house, but Lian knew how to shoot all of them, and she wasn’t an idiot.

Lian watched Uncle Dick, Uncle Wally and Aunt Donna get out of the car. Uncle Garth was still missing; it had said ‘presumed dead’ in his file that Daddy looked up last year. Uncle Wally looked a little car-sick, and Lian wondered how often he took cars cross-country these days. Probably never. They all gave her big hugs.

“Did Iris and Jai come to visit?” Lian asked hopefully, looking back at the car.

“Not this time.” Uncle Wally said. “But I’ll bring them at some point, I promise.”

Lian sighed. That meant that they were all going to talk about grown-up stuff and she was going to be bored anyway.

But they brought birthday presents, and she tore them open while mostly ignoring the conversation in the other room.

“You’re running away, Roy. We still don’t know exactly what happened, and no one has been able to get a clear answer from you.” Uncle Dick was frustrated, but the box he had brought her was huge. Lian tore it open happily to find a set of uneven parallel bars that Dad was going to have to build and the absolute largest stuffed elephant she had ever seen. Lian didn’t like stuffed animals much, but a four-foot tall elephant would definitely make her room look more interesting.

Aunt Donna was trying to quietly convince Daddy about something, and Dad was arguing with her. Lian put down the envelope (another bond) from the bottom of the box, and sat down next to the door. Aunt Donna died too, years ago, but she didn’t talk to Lian about it last time she was here. Lian knew better than to ask that question in front of Daddy, but it was sometimes hard to get away.

“Robert might be getting off the island soon. Dick is helping me argue that he’ll reach his age of majority soon because a sixteen-year-old can still declare legal emancipation in the United States.”

“It should work.”

Oh, they were talking about Aunt Donna’s baby who grew up. He was dead too, but Lian had never met him. She wondered what they thought about coming back to life on Themyscira. Probably weren’t as mean as they were here.

“I don’t want to leave.” Daddy said. He sounded tired.

“You have to let Lian experience the world she was born into, Roy. You’re cutting yourself off from everything here. Let us help you, at least.”

Lian looked down at her hands, then back at the giant elephant. Maybe she would name it something funny so Daddy could laugh.

Later they went outside and Daddy made a BBQ and they ate leftover chocolate cake from the party. Lian showed everyone Two-doe’s terrible attempt at a handstand, and everyone asked how school was going.

Uncle Wally had to leave early to take care of something, but he said that Aunt Linda invited everyone for a party on President’s Day weekend. Daddy didn’t say anything, and Aunt Donna went with Daddy to wash up the dishes after Uncle Wally left.

Lian showed Uncle Dick her favorite rock, where you get a perfect view of the sunset if you sit down on it. She curled up next to him and they watched the sky turn pink.

“Lian, do you like living here?” Uncle Dick said, very casually so she knew it was an important question. Lian though for a minute.

“I like it here sometimes. But I would like to leave more.”

“Why?”

“It’s boring here. I like living at the tower, or with Uncle Ollie. And we never get to visit anyone, because we’re so far away.”

Uncle Dick was quiet.

“What do you want to be when you grow up, Lian?”

“A superhero.” She answered promptly. That was a silly question, she already knew how to fight and shoot. She just had to get better.

Uncle Dick was quiet again, and he switched topics back.

“Won’t you miss your friends?”

Lian thought about it. She didn’t like school so much, but she liked her friends. The ones that treated her normally were lots of fun.

“Yes. But I miss everyone else more.”

“Everyone else?”

“You and Aunt Donna and Uncle Wally and Uncle Ollie and Uncle Conner and Aunt Dinah and Iris and Jai and Mia and-”

“Why are they different?” Uncle Dick asked.

Lian blinked at him, because it was a silly question. She thought about how to answer. “Because here it’s just friends and me and Daddy. But everyone else is not friends. Everyone else is, um, family.” She wasn’t sure if that was the right word. But it felt right.

Uncle Dick put his arm around her shoulders. “Okay, then,” he said, and they watched the sun set together.


	12. Chapter Six and Epilogue

Lian dropped her bag next to the computer where Damian was sitting. “Cerdian’s coming in tomorrow. Where’s your dad so I can ask for permission?”

“He’s off-planet for the rest of the week.”

Lian blinked, surprised. “When did this happen?”

“While you were in class.” Damian said, dismissively. He had already expressed his disdain toward traditional education. Bobby agreed with him, but for completely different reasons.

“Oookay, I’m going to assume that the planet is in safe hands. Where’s Tim?”

“Upstairs.”

Lian went upstairs, and Tim said she could take off to hang out if she wanted to.

“Friends who actually know about your whole life are important.”

When she insisted that she was fine, Tim simply told her that she was assigned to the son of the ambassador from Atlantis, and he expected her to keep him safe.

So Lian planned a fun night. Cerdian had this weird taste for Thai food, so she started Googling restaurants. There weren’t any good movies out, but Lian could get them into this fancy club midtown.

Cerdian came to hang out with her on campus for a few hours, and she brought him to her English class. He flipped through her book and didn’t say very much. Lian got a text message from Tim that he’d been called out of the city for a JLA thing and brought Robin, so Damian would call her if there were any emergencies. Lian passed the information onto Cerdian, who confirmed that he brought his costume with him if he needed it.

The sun was just starting to set as they headed for dinner, when her cell phone buzzed. Damian.

“Yeah?”

“Cancel your plans, Lian. I’m two minutes away. There’s been a-“

BOOM

Lian spun around, catching sight of debris flying from the science building. In the back of her mind, she wondered what kind of moron gave students chemicals capable of creating C-4. In the front of her mind, she was frozen with fear. Flames began to lick along the edge of the hole left in the side of the building. She might not remember being dead, but she remembered dying, and this is how it started. Bombs and collapsing buildings and smoke and shattering glass.

"Lian?"

The whole world shrinking into little moments of wild fear.

BOOM.

"Lian!"

Lian turned to face Iris, suddenly standing next to Cerdian.

“Bobby’s coming, Lian.” Cerdian said, phone next to his ear.

People were screaming and running past them. Cerdian moved closer and squeezed her hand. Damian worked his way through the crowd of panicked students to them. He was wearing an oversized button-down shirt and sweatpants, which meant he had his gear on underneath.

“We have to stop this,” he said grimly. Lian agreed with him, of course, but buildings were on fire, and she remembered how this went. She didn’t want to die again. She’d promised her dad, she _promised_ , and she couldn’t die now, and she didn’t _want_ to die now besides.

Cerdian squeezed her hand again.

“Okay.” Lian took a deep breath.

“Damian, you get to coordinate. Everyone, grab people and start directing them out of here. It’s obvious that the GSU campus is the target here, so we need to move fast. College students aren’t great at coordination. Bobby can take North campus when he gets here, Iris has South. Cerdian, try to put some fires out at the science buildings, but don’t get too close. Damian can try to herd people away while you work.” _Deep breath_

“I’m going to the dorms to try and shove people out. They’re too close to the labs for comfort.”

“I…” Iris rocked on her heels. “I’m going to get Jai.” She was gone.

Lian did _not_ want to drag Jai into this. He was completely human and he didn’t have enough training to hold his own in a fight. But this wasn’t a fight, was it? They just needed him to grab people and get them off campus while they figured out what was going on.

BOOM.

Fine, if he didn’t want to come, he wouldn’t. There was nothing she could do about it now.

Then she was running back to her dorm, fighting her way through the crowd of panicking students. Jess was up there, and Bailey and Keith and Haroon and Ashley and even Brian, who might be an ass, but he didn’t deserve to die.

She ran up the stairs, knowing that the risks of fire on the building were probably growing, and that students were clogging up the elevator anyway. When she burst into the room, there was no one there.

“JESS!” Lian yelled, going to her closet to pull out her bat-suit. When she slid back the false backing to her closet, a note fluttered to the ground. For a few precious seconds, Lian just stared at it dumbly. No one should be able to leave her notes there.

She snatched it up.

At the bottom was an invitation. “I’m tired of waiting. Want to play Hercules?” with a set of latitude and longitude coordinates neatly printed out. Lian grabbed her cell phone and input the data, checking her suit for any visible signs of tampering before pulling it on while her little machine spit out a satellite image of an abandoned warehouse by the docks. Zooming in, she could see a crude sign outside, “The Rock.” _Funny._

She pulled sweats on over her bat-suit before she running out of her room, shutting her door behind her. She tapped the comm-link in her ear.

“Damian, I have a lead. I’m going to send the info to Oracle in a minute, just keep clearing students.” As she ran down the hall, she roared at anyone she found. “FIRE! GET OUT NOW!” but she was going to have to trust her friends – team – to finish the job here. She had an invitation to play hero, although she wasn’t exactly sure who she was supposed to be rescuing in this particular game.

She took to the streets, which were crowded with people abandoning their cars and running. The chaos made her feel claustrophobic, but she kept ignoring it, pushing toward the docks. She spotted a bicycle and with a mental apology to the owner, stole it.

Using her phone like a GPS, Lian ducked into alleys and side streets to avoid the stream of people. Two more bombs went off behind her as she made her way further and further from campus.

When she got to the warehouse, she put on her mask and pulled off the sweats. For the first time in weeks, she longed for a gun.

Lian pushed open the door to the warehouse, a batarang tight in one hand. It looked mostly empty, except for old-fashioned metal garbage cans filled with fire, casting flickering shadows on the wall.

Lian didn’t have the time or patience for caution. If the bombs had been set from here, she had to find out who and why. She pushed her way into the room, eyes scanning rapidly for any sign of movement. Six steps in, a figure stepped out from behind one of the fires.

He was brown haired and ordinary looking, still recognizable from his high school photos. He only looked a few years older than Lian herself.

Death always did play fast and loose with aging.

“Prometheus.” Lian said. He nodded.

“But maybe not the one your thinking of,” he offered, eyes dark.

“Chad Graham.” Lian agreed. The villain-sidekick-turned-traitor who never really had an MO to predict. He had just stolen tech that first time, and lucked out with it. He wasn’t wearing the Prometheus helmet now, but there was no way that he could have gotten this far on nothing but his own wits. Lian tried to activate her headset, but it wasn’t receiving a signal. She slid her hand down to her cell phone.

“He killed me too, you know. He killed both of us; me first, of course. We could have teamed up: the dead of Prometheus, the ones he didn’t even think were worthy enough to live in his world; but you never came to me..”

“But we’re both back.” Lian pointed out. Crazy people were not people she wanted to talk to. Crazy people were to be avoided, she knew that. She was living in Gotham City, for heaven’s sake. She glanced down at her cell phone in the palm of her hand. No reception. She touched her neck absently, wishing she had thought to wear a necklace or bracelet. A JLA emergency signal can punch through nearly anything.

“Yes” he laughed. “We’re both back. Lucky us.”

Lian didn’t laugh.

“Not everyone gets to come back.” He explained, ruining the punchline.

“I know.” It wasn’t funny anyway.

“So we’re so lucky.”

“Woo. Hoo.”

Lian was a little too distracted for this. Her tech was down, her team was out there without her, and she forgot to send the coordinates. _Stupid_. Hopefully someone would go back to her room and check. She was pretty sure she left the note on her bed. Damian knew the area best, but no one would listen to him because they didn’t know him. Jai didn’t like him and Iris once threw a pastry at him when she was visiting.

Out of everyone else, Bobby could probably lead decently. Jai was smart but he took too long on decisions, because he didn’t have enough field experience. Cerdian would only lead if he was forced to. Iris wasn’t good enough to handle a group dynamic, she was faster than human comprehension and too used to working alone.

And that’s why Damian couldn’t lead, after all. He didn’t know how to work in teams. Two-man groups were fine, but he had no ability to inspire other people to follow him, and he didn’t have the experience to work out which how personalities worked best together. Oh, god, she had just doomed the city.

“ _Pay attention to me!_ ” Chad roared, and Lian snapped back. Monologuing gave the illusion of safety, because most people don’t want to interrupt themselves to kill you. But there was something crazy at the edges of Chad’s eyes, and Lian reminded herself of the danger.

Lian wondered if someone could go insane from coming back. And then she wondered how you could stay sane, after being dead and then being alive again.

“You have to pay attention to me.” Chad repeated.

“What do you want, Chad?” Lian asked, wary.

He spread his hands. “I have been given the power of life, how can I not want everything?” He laughed.

“That’s not a motivation, Chad. That’s not even possible.”

Chad frowned, and tapped his head in nervous tick. “I stole the tech again, you know. And then I downloaded everything. I went S.T.A.R. labs and I was smart enough to build my own helmet.” He pulled back his hairline to reveal a shiny metal plate above his left ear. “I can look at you fight and I can add you moves and styles. I can watch a baseball player and steal his technique. I already have enough knowledge to build bombs and trucks and planes and maybe cure cancer. Huh. That might be kinda cool. I could win some prizes.”

“That would be cool.” Lian agreed, wondering how she was going to get out of this.

“One of, well no, all of the scientists at S.T.A.R. labs dreamed about Nobel prizes. They wanted the recognition and the money.”

Lian looked at the door out of the corner of her eye. It was closed now, and she would put money down that it was locked. She had to get out of here.

“How do you know that?” she threw out, to keep him distracted.

“Oh, I can start picking up thoughts if I stay around someone enough. I don’t think it’s telepathy. It’s like the Prometheus tech starts adding together action and words and decides what makes sense. I can imitate lots of people now, Lian Harper.”

He knew her name. Of course he knew her name, he had been in her dorm room. It was still creepy.

“Why me?” Lian asked. She wasn’t sure she could take him in one-on-one combat. There was a point when he'd had Batman’s fighting moves in his helmet. And Lian could never take on Bruce.

“You and me, we’re like opposites.” Chad gestured between them, and Lian got the impression that this was his real voice for a minute. “Both killed by the same guy, but on other ends of the fight. And we both came back after he died. Like that kids game: Elimination.”

“I’m not sure I see it,” Lian said cautiously. She was edging closer to him.

“The coin!” he yelled. “You’re the hero and I’m the villain. And we share the same origin story. We should be a team, you know. Both of us dead, now alive. Both of us shadowed by the same man. Both of us-I see you. Stop that or I’ll blow up the rest of the campus.” He held up a remote control.

In the corner of her eye, Lian saw Iris stop. That meant that the team had found her, but it also probably meant Jai was on campus. Iris would never do anything to hurt him.

“You’re a Flash, aren’t you?” Chad said, as if the bright yellow lightning bold on her chest didn’t give her away. “You can’t die anymore, I’ve heard. You just join that speed force. You’re not really human anymore at all.”

Iris’s breath caught, but he didn’t even notice. “But we are. Me and Lian. Lian and me. Lian and I.”

Lian tried to figure out how far behind Iris the rest of the team would be. It depended.

“Can we still die, Lian? Or are we always going to come back?”

“We can die.” Lian answered firmly.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been back that long, you know. I think I fell through. But I haven’t tested the theory out. You’re supposed to test out scientific theories. Do you think we need a control group?”

He was going to kill them. Iris could probably get out before the blast if she waited for him to push the button, but Iris wasn’t as fast as her dad and if-

Suddenly, he frowned. “My hand won’t move,” he complained, like a little kid. “It’s stuck.” He tried to lower his arm. “My arm too.”

Lian turned her head. Cerdian was standing in the door, his hands raised and glowing purple. The matching glow around his eyes was blinding.

“Cerdian, stop.” Lian said, the adrenaline pumping through her vains. Damian was behind him, but for once looked confused. He has never worked with an Atlantean mage before, Lian reminded herself.

“Cerdian, you’ll kill him and you’ll never be allowed back in Gotham. _Stop_.” Damian turned back, surprised.

“What’s happening to me!?”

Bobby ducked around them both and pulled the rope from his belt. He pried Chad’s frozen fingers apart, removing the remote carefully and passing it to Iris. Then, he looped the rope around Chad’s hands, but couldn’t pull them closed.

Cerdian took a step into the room, and the glow around his hands grew brighter. Lian ran to him, trying to make eye-contact through the glow.

“Cerdian, stop!” She didn’t want him to kill anyone. Dad still had nightmares about the things he did after she died.

Cerdian blinked, and suddenly she could look into his eyes.

“He was going to kill you,” Cerdian said, furious.

“It’s c-c-cold,” Chad moaned.

“He’s insane. Don’t kill him, Cerdian. Please.”

Cerdian opened his hands, and the glow disappeared. Bobby quickly pulled his ropes tight.

Damian grabbed Chad and hauled him upright. “Where are the rest of the bombs?” he growled.

“Oh, I don’t remember.” Chad babbled. “But they’re all tied to the detonator anyway. I was playing them to Beethoven’s fifth, didn’t you notice? But then Lian came and I stopped. Lian, what’s happening? Who are these people?”

Lian held up her and Cerdian’s joined hands to him.

“ _This_ is my team, Chad. I came back to life to be with the people who care about me. I would never squander that time on someone who just happened to get killed by the same person as me.”

She deliberately turned away from him, and looked at Damian. “Arkham?”

Damian looked at the man who'd torn apart his city. “Arkham,” he agreed.

Lian turned to Iris and Bobby and Cerdian. “Come on guys, we’ve got a city to save.”

Iris nodded and dashed off with the detonator – they should be able to use it to pinpoint the bombs' locations. Lian walked outside and put her headset back in so Jai could hear her too. “And maybe if we’re really good, Uncle Batman will buy us ice cream as a reward.”

It wasn’t a very good joke. But someone had to pick up the slack when the ones with the good jokes were gone.

*~*~*~*

Epilogue: Leader by Default

Jai was late, but he was the only one stuck in traffic. Cerdian came by sea, Bobby by air, Iris by foot and Damian had been downtown all day anyway. So they started without Jai.

“I think we should come up with a new name for ourselves.” Iris declared. “I’m not a teenager.”

“It’s a classic,” Lian argued, but her heart wasn’t in it. Names didn’t matter much, she decided.

“But we’ll have to call ourselves Titans East, because the real team is in San Diego now. And that’s a stupid name.”

“With a bad history,” Damian added. He wasn’t comfortable with everyone yet, but Iris was pretty easy. And Lian was still working on him.

“I still have to finish college before we can make this serious anyway.” Lian pointed out. “Cerdian’s still in high school.”

“I’m still in college.” Iris said defensively.

“And at three to six credits a semester, I’m sure you’ll graduate any year now,” Jai said, walking in the door. “Is there any pizza left?”

Cerdian passed him the box.

“It’s not like we’re real Titans anyway.” Bobby said. He was shirtless, but Lian decided to be grateful he decided to put on any clothes, considering the heat. Cerdian had been icing up drinks all day.

“It’s a name. It doesn’t have to be literal.”

“Descendants of the original group of superheroes known as the Teen Titans. We can call ourselves DOTOGOS KATTT” Damian suggested, deadpan, and they all laughed.

“That would look terrible on T-shirts,” Iris said.

“Secret identity!” Lian reminded her.

Jai put a hand in front of his sister’s mouth, to stop her from talking. “I have news, guys.”

Lian sat up. “Spill.”

“I got accepted to the psych residency for next year.” He paused, and looked at all of them to build suspense.

Iris peeled his hand away. “Where, you slowpoke?”

“Arkham,” Jai said smugly. “Most difficult program to get into in the country.”

“Congrats!” Lian said, as Jai received high-fives from everyone.

The conversation drifted to apartment in Gotham and Jai joked that he should probably ask for Bruce's permission to move. Lian wondered if sharing with Jai would be a better idea than staying in the dorms. She was keeping in touch with Jess, but secret identities were harder when everyone was living right on top of each other.

“Wait a second, stop!” Iris threw her hands up in the air. They all looked at her.

“See, now my point is even more important. Titans Gotham City is a horrible name!”


End file.
